Do You Want To Figure It Out?
by AwkwardFudgeball
Summary: Eleven didn't know a whole lot about relationships. But then again, neither did Mike. It's just something they had to figure out together. A collection of Mileven drabbles (proceed with caution: deadly amounts of fluff). Ch.13: Mike realizes it's been exactly one month since Eleven disappeared
1. Cuddling

**Disclaimer: I do not own Stranger Things.**

It was a sunny day, not too warm -seemingly the perfect conditions to actually be _outside_. That wasn't the case for the Wheeler and Eleven. They were perfectly content right where they were, with El snuggled against Mike. It was an innocent gesture; she did it solely because it made her feel...nice. Exactly _why_ it made her feel nice was still a mystery to her. But, really, she didn't care about the "why" part.

Usually, Mike would just lean a little towards her or some other action that let him react without fulling reciprocating -because while El didn't know that cuddling and such was typically a thing for boyfriends and girlfriends, not friends, Mike did. And, well, it made him awkward.

But this time, for some reason, when Eleven had tucked her knees onto the couch in the Wheelers' basement and leaned into Mike, he wrapped an arm around her. Eleven jumped at first, because she hadn't expected him to do anything. She hadn't _known_ he was supposed to do anything. She did, however, know one thing: this felt way better than nice.

While Mike did think it was nice, he was flushing a very, very deep shade of red. Was it even possible for someone's heart to beat that fast before they had a heart attack? And what if his parents came back early? They had left Nancy, who knew that Eleven was there, in charge while his parents, who most definitely did _not_ know about her, took Holly to a birthday party across town. To say he was nervous would be an understatement.

"Mike?" Eleven asked, not even moving to look at him; she stayed pressed against his side, his arm draped over her.

"Yeah, El?" Dear God, _why_ did his voice sound like that?

"You're shaking," Eleven said. She sat up and pulled Mike's trembling arm into her lap, running her hand softly over his wrist (which didn't help with the shaking), "Are you cold?"

"What? No," Mike said hurriedly, his face practically burning at this point, "No, I'm fine. I just...shake...sometimes,"

"I've never seen you shake," Eleven said carefully. She was very concerned at this point.

"It's fairly new," Mike said quickly, trying to stop from his body from shivering.

Eleven seemed to accept his response and curled up to him again, this time closer than she was before. He thought about putting his arm around her again, but this time he couldn't. Not because he was too nervous, but because Eleven held his hand -which was still plagued by faint tremors, by the way- in hers and was running her fingers across the lines of his palm softly.

Mike was thankful she was paying attention to his hand, and not face, because he was pretty sure he resembled a deer in headlights. He wasn't exactly complaining, but God, she didn't know what she was doing to him, that she had him mesmerized with the way her skin felt against his.

 **Because for some reason I write better on zero sleep? Cool. Have some Mileven.**

 **I was thinking I'd turn this into a collection of Mileven drabbles that are kind of like this one...should I do it, or just leave the single one up?**

 **I hope my Mileven trash made you smile :)**


	2. Nightmare

**Thank you guys so much for all the follows/favorites and reviews! Really made my day :)**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own ST (or Eggos).**

Things hadn't quite died down after Eleven closed the gate and the government was "exposed". As a consequence, El was still staying in that old shack for the time being. The hype around town wasn't the only thing that hadn't died down, however. If anything, Mike was even more persistent on spending every possible moment he could with Eleven.

And every possible moment wasn't very often, so Mike was forced to take desperate measures. It was two weeks after the Snow Ball, and he hadn't seen her since. __Of course__ he was going to find a way to see her (even if it didn't have Hopper's metaphorical Dad seal of approval).

The day Mike decided to scrape the ice off his bike was a Tuesday during winter break. It had to have been a Tuesday, really; those were Hopper's late days. Eleven would be at the cabin, Mike would __show up__ at the cabin, surprise her...sounds easy, right? That's because it was. He knew his way around the place now. He knew the exact location of the trip wire, not to mention the other various booby traps Hopper decided to put up.

Well, there was one thing that Mike wasn't positive of: the knock. It had a tendency to confuse him. And if he had been using his brain, he would've taken that into account. But, the thing was that it physically pained him to go this long without seeing Eleven (nine days was a long time in his opinion).

So, he rapped his knuckles against the door in what he _thought_ was the knock. He paused, hoping that he had remembered correctly. He was met with silence.

"Son of a -"

The locks started clicking before he could get the word out.

When the door swung open, Eleven wasn't there to greet him.

"Eleven?" Mike said as he stepped inside cautiously, closing the door behind him. The locks clicked back into place. His eyes roamed the room, looking for her.

Any trace of happiness disappeared from his face when he saw her curled up on the couch. She didn't throw her arms around him like she _always_ did, or even stand up to greet him. She didn't even say a measly "hi". There was dark circles under her eyes, and her lips were curved in a small, most likely unintentional frown. It didn't take long for Mike's expression to mirror hers, only his was etched with concern and worry.

"El?" He asked as he closed the door. Eleven locked it again, but still didn't acknowledge him, "El. What's wrong?"

"El?" He asked softly, moving to kneel in front of her. She didn't even look at him, "El. What's wrong?"

"Tired," She mumbled, nuzzling her head against a tattered throw pillow.

Mike looked around the cabin while he tried to think of what to say or do in this situation when his eyes fell on a half eaten Eggo.

"Did you finish lunch?" Mike asked, sounded a bit like Hopper did when he told her to eat her vegetables.

"...from this morning," Eleven mumbled, the beginnings of her sentence unintelligible. She pulled herself up, struggling to keep her eyes open. It was only noon; Mike couldn't help but wonder why she was so exhausted.

"Have you eaten since then?"

Eleven managed to shake her head.

Mike lowered himself onto the couch beside her now, watching her face intently. Her eyes fluttered shut, the corners of her mouth still turned in a frown. He could tell she didn't feel well; he didn't even have to ask.

"You need to eat, okay? You'll get sick," Mike said, "Even more than you already are,"`

Mike didn't wait for her response before walking into the kitchen. The waffles on the table were cold and stale. He wasn't going to make her finish them. He popped two more in the toaster (Hopper really didn't really keep a variety of things to eat in the cabin).

Mike didn't wait for her response before walking the few paces to the kitchen. He decided Eleven needed to at least eat something a bit healthier than waffles, and started looking for such a thing.

He'd hardly been in there for a minute when he heard Eleven. One soft whimper turned into two, and that was Mike's cue to get his ass out of the kitchen and to her side. She'd fallen asleep, but her lips were trembling and she would whimper again every couple seconds.

"El," Mike said as he shook her shoulder slightly. She didn't even stir. He said, louder this time, "Eleven!"

She still didn't wake up, causing Mike to wonder when the last time she even slept was. A few tears had started to drip down her cheeks, and she was shivering all over now.

"No...," She muttered, her voice quiet and slurred, "No," Her words grew steadily louder, "No. No...no...no!"

"El!" Mike said, so loud he was almost yelling. He put his hands on her shoulders and tried to jostle her back to consciousness, "El! El, you need to wake up. Eleven!"

It worked. Her eyes snapped open. She looked around the cabin, panicked, tears still streaming down her face. Her bloodshot eyes landed on Mike, who was sitting beside her with a pained expression. She practically crashed into him, wrapping her arms tightly around his middle. She buried her face in his sweatshirt, sobs still racking her body.

It had been cold, dark. Vines had covered the walls, the floors, the ceiling, seemingly sucking the life out of the room and suffocating it. She had called for Hopper, for Mike, for _anyone_. No one came. Tears fell hot on her face as she ran and ran, _trying_ to find a way out. There wasn't a way out. And then there was Mike's frantic voice, calling her back to reality.

"It's okay, El. It's okay," Mike said, holding her just as tightly, "It was just a nightmare,"

Eleven pulled back and hugged her arms to herself. Mike didn't let go, running his hands up and down her arms in hopes that this would soothe her.

Eleven pulled away from him and hugged her arms to herself. Mike didn't do the same, rubbing his hands up and down her arms in what he hoped was a soothing manner.

"Every time," Eleven said, shaking her head. Her breaths were uneven as she scrunched her eyes shut.

"What?" Mike asked.

"Every time I sleep," Eleven said, barely above a whisper, "The Upside Down. I go back,"

Mike's eyes grew wide and he pulled her closer to him, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"It was just a nightmare," He whispered, "It wasn't real,"

"Felt like it," Eleven said, her voice muffled by Mike's sweater. At least she had stopped crying.

"That's the thing about bad dreams. They trick you," Mike said, "How long has this been happening? Is that why you're so tired?"

"Since I closed the gate," Eleven said, pulling away from Mike again (he refused to be too far away from her and kept his hand on her knee). She wiped the remaining tears off her face.

"How about this," Mike said, "We have a couple hours. How about you eat something, and then try -just try- to sleep for a little while? I'll be beside you the whole time,"

Eleven hesitated, "...promise?"

"Yeah. Promise," Mike said as he gave her a reassuring smile.

A few minutes later, Eleven had finished off both of her Eggos (Mike hadn't found anything else) and retired to her room. Mike sat on the floor, propped up against her bed.

"Don't go anywhere. Please," Eleven said.

"I won't," Mike said.

It didn't take long for the sound of Eleven's soft, slow breathing to fill the room. Her arm was draped over the edge of her bed, her hand clasped firmly in Mike's. And for the first time in what could easily be weeks, her dreams weren't plagued by the Upside Down.

 **The nightmare thing is a cliche and a half, I know, but I couldn't resist.**


	3. Holdsome

**I own nothing.**

Once upon a time, Eleven had walked the through the blue and white school halls when there was a threat. But now, she was walking through them, notebooks and pencils in tow, to get to algebra instead of a demogorgon.

As usual, she was one of the first to be seated. Contrary to the seemingly universal opinion that death was more favorable when compared to algebra, El actually liked the class. And it wasn't because the desk next to hers belonged to Mike, either (although the day she complained about that was the day hell froze over); numbers were easier to work with than words.

But when the teacher started scrawling messy equations on the blackboard, Eleven found it hard to focus. Mike wasn't in his seat, and she knew he'd came to school that day -they'd walked together. They'd had Spanish (which El hated with a fiery passion) just two class periods ago. _He should be here_ , she thought.

She watched the door for a while, waiting for it to swing open and for Mike to step through it. She did this for a little while before convincing herself not only that he wasn't coming, but that something was wrong.

So, she brought out what the guys liked the call plan 'Y', meaning it was meant to be used as a second to last resort (plan 'Z' being telepathically knock something big over -a bookshelf, per se- to create a distraction and pray to God that Hopper doesn't hear about it). Rolling a pencil, however, wasn't the same as dismantling a bookshelf, so long as she kept pretending to push it with her hand.

"Miss Martin?" She said carefully as she raised her hand halfway, "My nose is bleeding again,"

"Oh, for Heaven's sake Jane, you really ought to see a doctor about that. That's the third time this month!"

Okay, so _maybe_ she used it more often than a second to last resort should be used.

"Hold on. I'll write you a pass -and get your stuff in case the nurse decides to send you home. Homework's page two hundred and six,"

"Thank you," Eleven said, standing from her seat at record speed after gathering her things.

She hauled ass once she was out in the hallway, wiping the blood off her upper lip with her sleeve as she did so. She hurried into the girls' bathroom, shut herself in a stall, and quickly tied the sleeve of her flannel (really, it was _Mike's_ flannel, but he'd never asked for it back) around her eyes.

It didn't take long to find him, and to say she was merely "pissed" was the understatement of the year.

She walked out through the door behind the gym. She found Mike a few feet away, standing across from a small group of who Eleven couldn't help but think of as 'mouth breathers'. She heard them laughing -all of them except Mike. She watched him stand there and ignore it, her anger only growing. Mike tried to leave, but one of the guys (Eleven thought she remembered his name to be Chip or something like that) thrust his arm out and blocked. Eleven had had more than enough at this point; she started towards them.

She stepped slightly in front of Mike, fighting back the urge to break this Chip (or was it Chuck?)'s arm too.

"Aw, look! His little girlfriend showed up!"

"Don't you have anything better to do?" Mike said, once again trying to leave but getting blocked.

"Do you want us to leave so you and your girlfriend can go screw each other?"

"Does he even have anything to do her with?"

Mike's hand balled into a fist. He was about to raise it when Eleven cupped it with her own hand.

"Don't, Mike," She said softly, her brown eyes -now calm- meeting his.

"Aw, they're holding hands!"

"Leave." Eleven said with a glare, not letting go of Mike's hand (although it was still balled into a fist).

"I didn't hear you say please," The same guy taunted, cupping a hand around his ear, as if he expected her to actually request he remove his ass from their presence _politely_.

And maybe the old El would have. Maybe she would have said please just so they would leave Mike alone. But the old El hadn't hung around the scrappy, quick witted Max Mayfield.

Eleven tried to make her words as bitter and as scornful as she could, "That's because I didn't."

"Hey now, don't be so feisty with me. We're only joking,"

"Jokes are supposed to be funny," Eleven said, "That's not funny,"

One of the guys scoffed. Eleven refrained from rolling her eyes.

"Come on, Mike," She said, dragging Mike off. She could heard the mouth breathers laughing as they walked off.

"Frog face!"

Mike stopped.

El gripped his hand harder.

She ended up dragging him into the janitor's closet, and made him sit down on an overturned bucket.

She ended up dragging into the janitor's closet, and made him sit down on an overturned bucket. He refused to meet her gaze.

"Why do they call you frog face?" She asked after a moment. She'd heard people, people who weren't his friends, call him that all year.

Mike kicked a rather disgusting looking sponge halfheartedly, "They think I look like a frog,"

El didn't think he looked like a frog. El thought he looked nice. She reached her hand out of cupped his cheek, "You don't look like a frog. You look..." Eleven struggled to remember the word, "Holdsome?"

Mike's grimace gave way to a small smile, "Handsome," He corrected.

"Handsome," Eleven repeated, placing a short kiss on his lips, "Are you okay?"

Eleven had begun to ask Mike that almost as much as he asked her.

"Yeah," Mike said, "I'm okay... but I don't really want to go back to algebra,"

"Then me either," Eleven said, moving to sit on the bucket with Mike.

Before either of them realized exactly what was happening, their lips crashed together. It wasn't a short, sweet peck like it usually was. No, this was a kiss that would make ol' Hopper smash a lamp if he ever found out.

Eyes locking led to lips locking -and, well, they stayed lock. It wasn't like their usual sweet, chaste pecks. No, this was hands in hair, a bit of tongue even -all in all, it was the type of kiss that would make ol' Hopper smash a lamp if he ever found out.

And you know what? Eleven would take this over algebra any day.

 **I hope my questionable Mileven trash made you guys happy :)**


	4. Oops, It's Up

**So, warning: this contains the embarrassing moment where hormones get the best of adolescent boys.**

 **And I still own nothing.**

The campaign had lasted an entire thirteen hours (going in the imaginary record book as their longest yet). Still, since they'd started at eight in the morning, it was considered pretty early for a Saturday.

The nerds were gathered at Will's house. The guys were sleeping over as usual, Max had permission to stay for another hour and a half, and Eleven would be there until Hopper clocked out of the station and picked her up. Of course, with the D&D game over, there wasn't much to do and the six of them had resorted to simply lounging around the Byers' living room. Of course, the Byers' had a fairly small living room, so all four guys were crammed onto the couch while Max sat on the arm near Lucas. Eleven was perched on the floor, leaning against Mike's legs.

"...I never said you were _wrong_..." Dustin said, in the middle of a heated argument with Max about God knows what. Mike wasn't really paying them any attention; from her spot on the floor, Eleven had pulled his hands into hers and was messing with his fingers.

Sure, it was a small action, but it made Mike's heart swell.

But, unfortunately for poor Michael, his heart wasn't the only thing swelling. He'd tried to hide it, but his hands weren't even in his own possession; he couldn't reach for the throw pillow. He sat there, beet red, hoping it would go unnoticed. But, knowing his luck, that wasn't doing him any good.

"Hey Mike?" Eleven asked, her voice filled with curiosity.

 _Mike's heart stopped in his chest. He knew that tone too well, "Yeah, El?" He asked, his words choked and strained._

"Why are your pants sticking up like that?"

 _Shit._

If it wasn't bad enough that it had come to Eleven's attention, her question had made the other four take notice of the situation. Max pointedly looked away at a section of peeling wallpaper, while Will and Lucas seemed almost sympathetic to Mike's...predicament. Although, if they were being completely honest, it took them a lot of willpower not to laugh.

Dustin, well...he was a different story. He showed the _slightest_ bit of sympathy mixed with a _lot_ of amusement. He was having quite a good time watching Mike's face turn even redder (if it was even possible), thank you very much.

"I -I don't know," Mike stuttered.

"It happens when guys get too _happy_ ," Max said, still focusing her eyes on the wall.

"Max, you're not making this any better," Mike said through gritted teeth.

"But you _smile_ when you're happy," Eleven said, still tilting her head and keeping her eyes dead-locked on Mike.

"Different kind of happy, El," Max quickly explained. She looked as though she was talking to the wall.

"Really happy?" Eleven asked, tearing her eyes away from Mike and looking at Max. What other kinds of happy were there?

"Yeah, sure," Max said, somewhat sarcastically (El didn't know the difference), "Excited is a better word,"

"Oh-ho, _man_ ," Dustin said. He was practically doubled over from laughing so hard (Eleven didn't understand why he was laughing at all).

"What are you excited for?" Eleven asked as she turned her attention towards Mike again.

"Uh...the new Star Wars movie?" Will offered in an attempt to cover Mike's ass.

"I don't think Star Wars makes your di -"

" _Don't_ finish that sentence, Dustin. Please," Lucas said, practically begging.

"Yeah, _please_ ," Mike said, annoyed.

Eleven, not sensing that it would make the little problem worse, went and sat beside Mike in an attempt to calm him down. She tucked a lock of his dark, curly hair behind his ear to get a better look at his flushed face. Of course, her cold fingers brushing against his skin sent shivers down his spine and he couldn't help but glance at her dark eyes staring intently at him.

Eleven, not sensing that it would make the little problem worse, went and sat beside Mike, attempting to calm him down. She tucked a lock of his dark, curly hair behind his ear to get a better look at his flushed face. Of course, her cold fingers brushing against his skin sent shivers down his spine and -even though he tried everything _not to_ \- he couldn't help but steal a glance at her dark eyes staring at him intently.

Mrs. Byers, having heard Dustin's laughter (which had grown even louder somehow), entered the room.

"Is everything okay in here? What's so funny?"

It could have happened to literally any of them - _why him?_ Oh, that's right. The universe likes making him wish he'd jumped off that cliff last year.

 **Thanks for sticking around this long! :)**


	5. Syrup

**I still own nothing.**

Eleven didn't feel very well when Mike and Nancy Wheeler came to visit her at the cabin. In all honesty, to say she "didn't feel very well" was a bit of an understatement. Her stomach felt queasy, _everything_ was sore, and all this was topped off with a bitch of a cramp.

She knew it wasn't a stomach bug. A few months ago, Nancy had had to explain what a period was and why the hellish experience even existed in the first place. The son of a bitch had happened four times since then, and she was already sick of it.

She'd thought it was the flu or some other virus at first, but she knew better. Several months ago, Hopper called Nancy and Joyce over, and the two had had to explain what a period was and why the hellish experience even existed in the first time. The son of a bitch had happened seven times since then, and Eleven was sick of it.

Mike hadn't had the "pleasure" of being around her during those weeks yet. This time, however, when Hopper had phoned Nancy and asked her to bring over some "feminine hygiene products" (Hopper refused to say tampon), Mike had overheard and begged to tag along (of course, he hadn't known the reason the chief was calling his sister).

Nancy had even tried to warn him in the car, "Now, Mike, she's not feeling to well, so make sure to -"

" _Nancy_ ," Mike had told her, "I'm not dense,"

Nancy had bit back an "Are you sure about that?" and kept her eyes on the road in silence.

She tried to give him heads up during the five minute walk through the woods.

"She's probably going to be a little moody, you know," She said.

Mike hadn't listened to her then, either, "I've been around her sick before, Nancy. I know,"

"Hi, El!" He greeted, chipper (and clueless) as always.

Eleven wanted to kiss him.

Or slap him. She really didn't know.

Nancy stepped inside right after him, discretely slipping El a small box from her coat pocket.

"Thank you," Eleven mouthed silently.

Nancy smiled at her and patted her on the shoulder.

"So," Nancy said, "It's around lunchtime. You guys hungry?"

Having slept through breakfast, Eleven realized that the idea of lunch sounded more than inviting. The stitch in her stomach was now accompanied by growling.

Eggos sounded good...or maybe they didn't. Chocolate sounded good. Chocolate sounded _really_ good. But Hopper didn't generally keep sweets. Maybe pickles? No, Hopper hardly ever kept pickles either; he claimed they made his mouth taste odd (although El contributed this to his smoking habit. She doubted vinegar and cigarette smoke tasted very well together). On second though, maybe Eggos did sound good.

Eleven ended up stacking her plate with both Eggos and leftovers from the previous night's dinner, which caused Mike to ask if she'd eaten that morning.

 _Eleven knew he was just looking out for her; he was always concerned about her. But she didn't like the tone of his voice. Was she not allowed to eat? It's a free country, Mike._

El spent the next few minutes sending Mike cold glares for the smallest of reasons (like how he kept placing his fork upside down on his plate. His _syrup_ covered plate) and being slightly cross with him. She felt bad, of course, but that feeling went away as soon as Mike put his fork back on the plate the _wrong gosh damn way._

 _Mike spent the next few minutes wondering why on earth Eleven kept glaring at him every three seconds. Eleven wondered why, too; of all people, she was never cold towards Mike...that is, until he put his fork upside down on his plate -his_ _syrup_ _covered plate. She felt bad for being a little cross and snippy, of course, but her remorse went away as soon as Mike put his fork back on the plate the_ _wrong gosh damn way._

"Are you okay, El?" Mike asked after the umpteenth time Eleven huffed out of literally nowhere, "Did I say something?"

"No," El said, because she couldn't lie. Friends didn't do that. And truthfully, he didn't say something. She just had to inevitable urge to lash out at someone, and, well, he just happened to be in the line of fire. He also happened to be unaware of how _not to put your fork in maple syrup._

"Mike, can I talk to you for a second?" Nancy said once she saw that her little brother had cleared his plate.

Mike didn't see a point in adding on to his previous objections, and honestly, he felt like there was something more going on than just a stomach bug, "Yeah, uh, sure,"

"So," Nancy said once they were out of earshot, "You're almost fifteen years old. I'm assuming you know what a period is, right?"

"Well -yeah," Mike said, stumbling over his words as a dark blush crept over his cheeks, "Is El -?"

"Yes,"

 _Well, that explains it._

Nancy continued talking, "I'm going to run back to the store real quick and get her some things to make her feel a bit better. Do you think you can survive here while I do that?"

"Yeah," Mike said. He loved alone-time with Eleven, no matter how ornery the girl happened to be (although he'd be lying if he said that she didn't terrify her at that moment).

As Nancy left, Mike walked back into the kitchen. El was standing at the sink, scrubbing vigorously at a fork.

"El, I can get that if you want," Mike offered.

"I've _got it_ ," came Eleven's sharp reply.

A few minutes later, after Eleven had scrubbed all the sticky residue off of _every single part of Mike's fork,_ Mike and Eleven sat on the couch, an uncomfortably-awkward distance apart. After a few moments of silence, Eleven spoke,

"I'm sorry," She said, "For being mean,"

Mike smiled and shook his head as he scooted closer and wrapped his arm around her, "It's okay, El. It's not your fault,"

Eleven's lips stretched into a smile in return. She felt her lips start to gravitate to his, and she closed the gap between them briefly, basking in the short-lived, syrup-flavored moment of bliss.

When Nancy came back from the store, chocolate bars in tow, she found her little brother with both his arms wrapped around Eleven, who, on a side note, was wearing Mike's green jacket with a small smile on her face.

When Nancy returned from the store -chocolate bars in tow- she found her little brother with both his arms wrapped around a sleeping Eleven, who was curled up against him, wearing his green jacket with a small smile on her face.

Nancy smiled to herself; looks like Mike learned how to tame the beast.

 **I like this one; I hope you guys do too :)**


	6. Bumps and Bruises

**I own nothinggg.**

The first day of summer break was monumental for the guys (for obvious reasons). But it was also El's last couple of months before she was fully integrated into society -and, incidentally, high school. So, to commemorate this, the other five had been saving money since Christmas -they even used a lot of what would otherwise be arcade money- to buy Eleven her own bike.

Needless to say, the day they set to give it to her brought with it a _lot_ of excitement.

Out of all of them, Mike was without-a-doubt anticipating it the most. He must've oiled the chains a dozen times, and he made sure that any speck of dust that happened to settle on it was promptly wiped off before carefully tying a yellow ribbon on the handlebars. Dustin had teased his relentlessly for this, saying he didn't think Mike would be this happy to get Eleven off his bike; but Mike couldn't help it. He wanted it to be absolutely perfect.

He could hardly contain his excitement when Hopper dropped Eleven off.

"Eleven! You're here! Hi!" He greeted her, opening the door before she could even knock with what was easily the world's cheesiest grin plastered on his face.

Instead of the cheerful reply he was expecting, Eleven shrank back, "Mike?" she asked, her voice soft and a little...intimidated. Mike realized that five pairs of eyes staring at her probably _was_ intimidating. He cleared his throat,

"Sorry," He said, "We're just happy to see you,"

"Oh," was Eleven's short response. She was still very confused, but she managed to give a small smile.

"What do you want to do?" Mike asked, but he didn't wait for her response before he said, "We could go outside; it's nice out,"

El had barely nodded her head 'yes' when Mike grabbed her hand and flung the door open at warp speed. She followed him without protest, the rest trailing behind them closely. They seemed just as excited as Mike -well, almost. Eleven noticed that Mike seemed the giddiest.

"Wait here," Mike told her, reluctantly letting go of her hand, "Will, help me out?"

Mike and Will disappeared behind the garage door while Eleven watched, waiting for them to come back into view. And when they did, they brought with them a shiny blue bike adorned with a yellow bow. Eleven could only stare, her mouth slightly agape, as they wheeled it closer to her.

"Mine...?" She asked, running the bright ribbon through her fingers slowly.

"All yours," Mike said, "You like it?"

The smile that took over El's face could potentially blind someone as she said, awestruck, "I like it. It's pretty...thank you,"

"So, are we gonna teach her how to ride that beast or just look at it?" Max chimed in.

Eleven looked at her, confused, "Beast?" There was nothing beastly about it. It was just a bike -a pale blue bike with a small sticker of a rainbow.

 _"_ _Figure of speech," Max clarified._

"So, what do you say, El?" Dustin said, "Ready to ride?"

El paused for a moment. She was a little skeptical, but the guys made it seem so easy, "I'm ready," she confirmed with a nod.

"Alright, hop on," Mike said, holding it steady for her, "Scoot up a little closer. Okay, now put your feet on the pedals and move them sort of like you're running. I won't let go, I promise,"

Eleven focused on the road in front her, a little nervous as she started to roll forward. But then she heard Mike's encouraging "That's it! You got it!" and her nervousness slipped away. He had his hands on top of hers, his soft skin warmer than her own. She liked the way that felt, his fingers curled over hers.

"Can we go faster? But don't let go," Eleven said, "Not yet,"

Mike obliged, lengthening his strides to match the pace at which El was pedaling. A smile stretched over Eleven's face as the slight breeze brushed her hair backwards.

"Are you to try on your own? Without me holding on?" Mike asked her.

Eleven kept her eyes on the road as she answered, "...okay. Yes,"

"On the count of three, okay? One...two...three!"

The backs of Eleven's hands were shot with a burst of cold air when Mike let go. All the same, she kept her grip tight and her feet at a steady pace. She picked up her speed slowly, listening to the gravel rubbing against the wheels. It was fun.

That is, until she heard the piercing _snap_ of a branch that she had failed to see in front of her. She lost control of the bike, which seemingly had a mind of its own at that moment. She couldn't keep her grip steady, no matter how hard she tried. The wheels swerved, thrown off course.

El landed on the ground, the _paved_ ground, as the bike landed in the grass beside her. She bit her lip as tears began to sting her eyes. She blinked them away, trying to stand (which made her knee sting as well). She started to pick up the fallen bike, but Mike was bending out the kickstand before she had even bent down.

"Are you okay?" He asked, almost frantically, as he forgot all about the bike.

"Yes," Eleven said as nonchalantly as she could.

"No," Mike protested, looking down at her leg. Her knee was all but covered in blood, "You're bleeding,"

Eleven didn't seem to have noticed this before; she looked shocked when she noticed the red dripping from a particularly nasty scrape.

"Oh,"

"Come on. Let's get you cleaned up. I'll wheel the bike back," Mike said, kicking the metal rod back in place and beginning to roll it away. He noticed that Eleven was walking a considerable amount of distance behind him, "Can you walk alright?"

"Yes," Eleven said, although she winced as she her foot made contact with the ground.

The rest of the gang had caught up with them (Mike wasn't afraid to admit that he ran to El when he saw the beginnings of her crash) at this point.

"Here, I'll help her," Max said before Mike could volunteer, looping El's arm around her shoulder and hooking her own around Eleven's waist. She ignored the displeased look Mike was now sporting.

Once they were back at the Wheelers', Mike wasted no time in hooking _his_ arm around Eleven's waist and start towards the upstairs bathroom. The guys made to follow to see if they were of any help, but Dustin called them back.

"Let them have their moment. I don't wanna see this end in divorce,"

Mike had led El up the stairs, tentatively making sure it was as painless as possible. He helped her into the bathroom and onto the rim of the tub, leaving the door open just a crack (she still preferred it that way) and kneeling beside her.

He wiped the blood off with a damp cloth before bringing out an antiseptic pad, "This might burn. Just squeeze my hand if it hurts too much, okay?"

Eleven damn near broke his fingers.

"Sorry. I just need to get it clean," Mike said, still dabbing at the scrape. Eleven was still clutching his hand, although with a softer grip this time. It helped knowing that Mike wouldn't hurt her on purpose.

"Thank you," Eleven said softly once Mike had finished.

"It's no trouble, really," Mike said, "So...you ready to try again?"

Eleven thought about this. She would much rather ride on the back of Mike's, "No. Not yet,"

"Okay. There's no harm in that," Mike said. The 'not yet' acted as a compromise, "You can always just ride with me until then,"

Eleven smiled to herself. She was perfectly content with that.

 **Thanks for sticking with me this far :)**


	7. Safe Place

**Disclaimer: I don't own Stranger Things or Eggos.**

It was one thing when Ted Wheeler was a little...uninvolved. It was quite another when the man was an insufferable ass-hat. Mike suspected that his dad thought of him as a disappointment -especially in the past year, with him sneaking out to see Eleven and actually standing up for himself and for his friends for once. But when the man flat out said it, Mike was hit harder than he expected. It seemed no matter how much he expected it, the words struck him with a blow that he didn't quite understand.

"You're a good kid, Michael. You're better than this! You shouldn't be running around and screwing the chief's daughter -"

" _Dad,_ " Mike had said. The word felt foreign on his lips. Ted kept going:

"Your grades are slipping,"

Mike bit back a scoff. His lowest grade was a ninety one.

"You're never home anymore. You spend all your time with your friends and that _girl_. You don't even acknowledge your family exists..."

Mike tried to tune out the rest of what his dad was saying as he made Holly's peanut butter sandwich (because he _did_ acknowledge his family's existence, thank you very much).

"You're such a -"

The room was silent as the butter knife slipped out of Mike's grip and clattered to the ground.

"A _what_?" He said, almost daring Ted to finish his sentence.

"A disappointment."

Mike placed the top piece of bread on his little sister's sandwich before crossing over to the door.

His hand paused on the handle, "Give Holly her snack. She's the little blonde girl, in case you forgot,"

And the door slammed behind him.

Disappointment.

 _Disappointment._

The word echoed in his ears even after he had left the house and slammed the door.

The fight had started because Mike had just gotten back from Dustin's and Ted had assumed he had run off to see El. Ironically enough, that was exactly what he was doing now.

He was at the cabin (which El was still temporarily staying at) within half an hour. He didn't know it was possible to knock that fast.

Within seconds, the locks began clicking and the door swung open. Mike didn't realize he had been on the verge of tears, but it didn't slip past Eleven. She wasted no time in pulling him towards her and wrapping her arms around her.

Mike was usually the one to hold Eleven, but he didn't fight her embrace. He closed his eyes and laid his head and against her shoulder, breathing in the familiar, sugary scent with a fair trace of cologne (Hopper's cologne seemed to linger on everything in the cabin, including El).

Eqleven reluctantly pulled away but kept him at an arm's length, "Talk," she said.

Mike felt his cheeks go hot with anger as he recalled the arguement, "I'm a disappointment,"

Eleven had learned that word just last week, "Never,"

"According to my dad I am," Mike said as he paced the living room. With anyone else, he might've felt silly -and maybe a bit pathetic, just blurting out his feelings like that. But El was different. She was his safe place.

"He's wrong," Eleven said sternly, "You never disappoint me,"

Eleven pressed her lips to corner of Mike's mouth, and the boy gave a slight smile.

"You're amazing," He told her, taking his turn and pulling her to his chest.

"So are you," She mumbled, her voice muffled by his sweater. She added with a giggle, "And you smell nice,"

Mike would've shook his head if he wasn't pressed so close against her. _Of course, "_ I had eggos for breakfast,"

She didn't look up, but Mike felt her smile.

"Are you okay?" She asked after a moment of silence.

"I'm okay," He added, in his head, _thanks to you._

 **Oops? Thanks to MoEffect for suggesting this. I really liked writing this :)**


	8. Braids

**Me: *gets 90 follows, 70 favorites, and 50 reviews* Don't touch me, I'm famous.**

 **Nah, just kidding. I've seen fics with wayyy more, although these are the highest stats I've ever gotten. Thank you guys soooo much for enjoying my trash :)**

"So, you're going to divide by seven," Mike said, pointing at Eleven's sloppy '7x'. He wasn't much of a tutor; he never had been, in all honesty. This was just yet another thing on his never-ending list of things he'd do for El's sake, "Both sides. Not just that one,"

"Why?"

Hardly a minute of these tutoring sessions went by without Eleven asked him why. She didn't really just accept the steps of math; she had to understand them. That wasn't a problem when Mike was showing her fairly simple things, but with algebra? With algebra, it was best not to try and understand much. 'Why' was for history. 'Why' wasn't for long, exceedingly difficult equations -except for Eleven, that is.

Mike could tell she was getting frustrated as she huffed and brushed her unruly hair out of her face.

"You know what? You're worked really hard. Let's take a little break," Mike said, even though Hopper's instructions had been clear as day: study, that's it. No funny business, and no TV.

Eleven wasted no time in shutting the textbook and sliding the notebook away from her. She bit back a frustrated groan as she tucked a curl behind her ear and it was immediately replaced by another.

"No funny business," Eleven said, quoting Hopper's rules for the evening as if they were pieces of scripture (although she didn't know what he meant by 'funny business'), "No TV,"

"It's no big deal," Mike assured her, "We can just talk,"

Eleven nodded, but the motion caused several more brown locks to fall just above her eyes. She let out an exasperated sigh and attempted to contain them again.

"Is your hair bothering you?" Mike asked, although he knew the answer, "I can try and put it up for you. You know, get it out of your face,"

He'd seen Nancy do her hair countless times. She'd been doing it by herself since she was around eight, if he remembered correctly. If an eight year could do it, then surely Mike, at almost fifteen, could manage just fine.

"Yes," Eleven said, giving a sigh of relief. She was very grateful for this boy.

"Okay. Do you have a comb, or a brush? And a hair tie," Mike said. That's what it was called, wasn't it? A hair tie. He didn't think it had some special name.

Eleven nodded her head and walked out of the room, returning a few moments later, armed with a brush and ponytail holder (that's what she insisted on calling it, anyway).

"Okay, great. Come stand over here," Mike said as he gestured to the empty space in front of him. Eleven obliged, standing with her back towards him.

Mike tried to run the brush through her hair, but it got stuck halfway down and Eleven drew in a sharp breath.

"Sorry!" Mike said, panicked, "I didn't mean to hurt you. I've never brushed anyone's hair except my own before,"

Eleven knew Mike would never hurt her on purpose, "It's okay,"

Mike continued trying to tame her head of curls with a gentler touch. It took quite a while for all the knots to be worked out, but Mike didn't mind. Eleven was standing quite close to him, and she smelled nice.

He attempted to gather her hair (which was now very, _very_ puffy) into one spot. It wasn't exactly in the back of her head, but Mike figured it would do. He looped the elastic around it just twice in fear it would snap. _Oh well,_ he thought, _it could be worse._

"Better?"

Eleven remained silent for a moment longer, waiting for a strand of hair to fall over her face and tickle her nose, but it never did.

"Better," She replied with a nod of her head.

"Do you want to try and work on your math again?"

"Sure," Eleven said as she moved to join Mike at the table.

The two had only been sitting down for a few minutes, barely finished with the same equation, when they heard the signature knock.

"I've got it," Mike said, but Eleven had already undone the locks before he could stand.

The door creaked open to reveal Nancy. She paused in the doorway, her eyes scanning the cabin and seeing only the two teenagers at the dining table, "Is Hopper back yet? I'm supposed to take you home,"

"Not yet," Mike said, "He should be back soon,"

"Okay. We can stick around for a few minutes, then," Nancy said, sliding into a chair next to her brother, "Hey, El!"

"Hi," El greeted in return with a smile. She liked being around Nancy.

At that moment, Nancy took notice of the bird's nest that was Eleven's hair, "Your hair," She said, "It looks nice,"

"Mike did it," Eleven said, beaming with pride for the boy.

 _That explains it,_ Nancy thought, "Hey, how about I show you how to braid your hair?"

Nancy had braided El's hair once before; it was pretty.

"Okay," Eleven agreed, nodding her head.

"Come here, Mike. Turn your back towards me,"

"What? Why?" Mike said.

Nancy raised her eyebrow at him, "I can't show Eleven how to braid hair on her own head,"

Mike wanted so very badly to say _hell no_ , but again, the list of things he would do for Eleven was never-ending. He sighed and obeyed his sister.

"Okay, El, here's what you do..." Nancy then proceeded to explain to El how to twist the strands into a braid as she used Mike as a demonstration,"Got it?"

"I think so," came Eleven's timid reply.

"Come on. Try," Nancy said, stepping away from Mike. Eleven took her place. Mike inhaled as Eleven's fingers started brushing through his hair. If his sister wasn't there watching, he'd probably turn around and kiss her.

Eleven ended up braiding his hair in seven - _seven_ \- different places. Mike didn't even take it out when Hopper showed up, braving the embarrassment for El's sake. He really was wrapped around that girl's finger.

 **A big thanks to KBGKBG (sorry if that's not exactly right, I'm going off of memory here) for suggesting this one. I hope I did a good enough job with it!**


	9. Nightmare On Elm Street

**Before I get started, I owe a HUGE thanks to iAmCC, who not only gave me the prompt for this, gave me some background information to work with as well.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own ST or Nightmare On Elm Street.**

Eleven had had fun that day.

When the sun was still shining and she was still with the boys, that is. Now that the sun had set, she wished she hadn't agreed to watching Nightmare on Elm Street.

She kept her covers tucked almost over her eyes, because somehow that made her feel safe. She knew that the movie wasn't real, of course, but she could have sworn the clinking of metal or caught a glimpse of that wretched striped sweater. She would simply pull her blanket higher each time this happened -which is why it was hovering at the bridge of her nose, telling herself that it was all in her head.

But even if it was all in her head, she wished Mike was still there to hold her hand.

 _Earlier That Day..._

"I just don't get why -"

"Dustin, hush! You're ruining the movie!"

"I'm just saying that -"

Dustin was again cut off by Lucas's loud _shhh_. Eleven wished Lucas hadn't shushed him. She very much preferred to listen to Dustin's voice than the screaming on the TV.

The guys had proposed spending their Saturday evening watching a horror movie. Eleven wasn't too fond of that idea -the words 'horror' and 'movie' did not belong beside each other in her opinion. All the same, she ended up agreeing (even after Mike had repeatedly asked her if she was sure), and now, as she hugged her knees to her chest, she wished she'd told them no.

But she hadn't, and she was watching this man with a metal hand being a downright bastard, as Dustin had charmingly put it. After a couple minutes, she started focusing on a stain on the couch cushion rather than the screen, flinching at every clang or remotely eerie noise (even when it was just Will dropping a fork).

It didn't take long for Mike to realize that Eleven wasn't having fun -in fact, she looked dreadul with her face awfully pale and her lips pursed into a frown. He didn't want the guys to see what he was about to do and have to put up with their endless teasing, but that was the least of his concerns. El was pretty obviously scared. He reached out a tentative hand and laced his fingers with hers. She flinched away from his touch at first, but shortly after she realized that it was only him she seemed more than a little relieved.

With her hand in Mike's grip, Eleven was able to pry her eyes away from the spot on the couch cushion (she'd come to the conclusion that it was some type of juice) and actually watch some of the film. Whenever something a bit too intense happened onscreen he would tighten his hold on her, and he kept his thumb rubbing circles on her wrist the entire time.

The only time Eleven flinched after that was when Hopper came to pick her up and opened the door without knocking. The guys paused the movie, they said their goodbyes, and she slipped her hand away from Mike's as discretely as she could.

"Bye, Mike,"

"Bye, El. I'll see you tomorrow,"

Tomorrow seemed too far away. El needed to see Mike _now_. She shook her head and turned her back away from the door. As she did this, she caught a glimpse of the Supercom. Maybe Mike was still awake...? Eleven tuned in to the channel her and Mike used and prayed he was still on.

Tomorrow seemed too far away. Eleven needed to see Mike _now._ She shook her head and turned her back away from the door -she told herself she was just being silly. Mike was probably asleep. But when she had rolled over, she caught a glimpse of her Supercom (a gift from the boys and Joyce) and took the gamble that Mike was still awake as she tuned into the right channel.

"Mike?" She whispered.

 _It was silent for a few moments and Eleven was about to put the Supercom away when it crackled to life and she heard Mike ask groggily,_ _"_ _El? Are you okay?"_

"I'm scared,"

 _"From the movie? El, you know none of that stuff was real,"_

That's true; she _did_ know that, "I know. I'm still scared,"

 _"Try thinking of happier things,_ _"_ _Mike told her,_ _"_ _You know, things that make you smile,"_

Mike. Mike made her smile.

 _He yawned before he kept talking, "_ _What if I stayed up with you for a little while? Until you fell asleep? We don't have to talk. I'll just be here if you get scared,"_

Eleven liked that idea. She nodded her head, forgetting that he couldn't see her, before correcting herself and telling him, "Okay,"

She figured Mike had fallen asleep on the button, because pretty soon his soft snoring was the only thing Eleven heard. Not that she minded, anyway. Listening to his slow, even breathing, she drifted to sleep with a small smile on her face.

 **Gah, I am so sorry I haven't been updating very often! I've been a little busy the past week but I'm hoping once the holidays are over I'll have more time. I'm trying to finish up a little Christmas chapter to post tomorrow, so maybe that'll make up for some of it. Take care you guys!**


	10. Mistletoe

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

Hopper expected Joyce to put up mistletoe (if you were to ask him, the woman had entirely too much Christmas spirit). All the same, when he walked inside with Eleven and saw the little green sprig, he didn't even try to stifle his groan. Hopper liked the Wheeler boy to some degree, but he did _not_ like him with his lips on El...or hands. Or eyes. Hell, anything really.

Luckily, Eleven didn't seem to pay any attention to it until that evening, during dinner.

"Why did they just kiss?" She asked, staring into the living room with curiosity, "Nancy and Jonathan?"

Needless to say, Hopper and Mike both spit their drinks all over the table.

"What?" Hopper asked in the middle of his coughing fit, making sure he heard that right.

"They stopped out of nowhere. And they kissed,"

"It's something -"

"Joyce, please stop talking," Hopper said, still sputtering.

"She's not a little girl, Hop," Joyce said, "She's a young woman,"

"Joyce -"

Joyce ignored him and turned to Eleven, "It's a Christmas tradition, El. When two people find themselves standing under the mistletoe -that's that little leaf thing right there- they kiss,"

Eleven looked at Joyce like she had three heads, "Why?"

"I'm not exactly sure -"

"Actually, it originated in-" Dustin started, but stopped when he saw a few eyebrows raised in his direction, "Nevermind. I'll stop talking,"

"You're too young for mistletoe, Jane," Hopper told her, his voice authoritative.

Eleven looked him straight in the eye and told him, "But I'm a young woman,"

"Too young. You here me?"

Eleven lost her daring attitude and lowered her gaze to the remaining scoop of mashed potatoes on her plate and muttered a defeated, "Yes, sir,"

Dustin, Mike, and Hopper and El were the last few stragglers at the Byers'. Hopper was outside with Joyce -grownup talk they called it, although it just looked like an awful lot of cigarette smoke and laughter. The three boys were helping out to clean up the last of the mess in the kitchen.

A loud clatter was followed by Dustin's shout of, "Shit!"

"Well -at least it wasn't the good pan," Will offered, looking at the shattered dish of what _used_ to be a casserole, "I'll help you get the towels,"

Mike noticed that this left him and Eleven alone, and wondered if she realized this too. And if she did...was she thinking the same thing he was?

Mike dismissed it. _Probably not_ , he thought. She'd just learned about mistletoe, and they'd only kissed a handful of times. Besides -Hopper told her no. He left the kitchen briefly to retrieve a cup that had rolled its way into the hallway.

When he came back, his eyes locked on the glass to check for cracks, he bumped straight into Eleven, who had been straightening a stack of recently cleaned plates. If the glass wasn't broken before, it was now.

"Great," Mike muttered, but as he bent down to pick up the pieces, he caught a glimpse of El's brown doe eyes staring at him intently.

"Mistletoe," She said softly, a small smile playing on her lips.

"El -"

Before Mike could finish his objection (and that took a _lot_ of willpower), Eleven had pressed her lips against his.

It lasted only a couple seconds. Just two seconds of hot cocoa flavored lips and bliss. But hell, it was enough for Mike.

"What the hell happened in here?" Dustin said as he and Will stepped back into the kitchen.

Eleven and Mike jumped apart, faces red. Mike's shoe landed on the shattered cup with a _crunch._

"I meant the _cup_. I was gone for like two minutes," Dustin said, "I already know what happened with you two. I'm not that dense,"

 **Okay, I know it's short, but I had a short time frame and let's face it -it's not my best work, but it's definitely adorable. Happy holidays!**


	11. Babe

**Over 100 followers! Eep! Shout out to Resisting-Moonlight and phieillydinyia, because you guys' reviews give me a lot of oomph to keep this going. But all of you guys are frickin' great.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

The last Friday of summer break was always treated as somewhat of a holiday. For the boys and their two new (to some degree) party members, this meant gathering in the Wheelers' basement with a stash of chips and whatever candy they had gotten their hands on.

A few minutes after doing absolutely nothing, Mike rose from his spot between Eleven and Will, "I left the drinks upstairs. What do you guys want?"

"I'll take a coke," Dustin said as he stood up to help Mike.

"Me too," Lucas said, his eyes still glued to the broken wrist rocket he was trying to repair.

"Water for me," Max said.

" _Water?_ "

Max was quick to deliver a, "Shut up, Dustin," before taking the wrist rocket from a struggling Lucas.

"Water for me, too,"

"Will," Dustin said, "You're supposed to be the wise one. You're like, as skinny as my pinky finger. Chug a coke, buddy,"

"I'll stick with water,"

"Suit yourself,"

Mike noticed that Eleven was the only one who hadn't answered.

"Babe, what do you want?"

Dustin's turned toward Mike so quickly that it looked as if he had broken his neck, " _That's_ new,"

" _Babe?"_ Max asked, her eyes wide and mouth agape in amusement.

Mike mentally cursed himself as he stood on the steps, face red and feet frozen. He didn't mean to call Eleven 'babe'. He'd never even called her anything other than Eleven or El. Of course, that didn't mean he didn't think about it. In fact, he was pretty sure that those thoughts were primarily the reason his grades in history were slipping. He'd caught the word a couple times before it left his mouth on a few occasions. He figured it was bound to slip sooner or later...but he figured when it did, they'd be alone and it wouldn't be painstakingly awkward. Why did it have to be in front of his _friends?_

"Let's just get the drinks, Dustin,"

* * *

Eleven watched Mike and Dustin retreat up the stairs, fighting the urge to follow them, and asked the remaining party members, "What's... _babe_ mean?"

"It's a pet name," Lucas said. This only increased El's confusion...she wasn't a pet.

Max, fortunately, caught the look on the poor girl's face and offered a better explanation, "It's a nickname. Kind of like how we call you El, except babe is a word boyfriends and girlfriends use. You know what a boyfriend is, right?"

"Yes," Eleven nodded, thinking back to the conversation her and Hopper had had about those words. That led her to another question, although she didn't think she'd ask the group this one:

Did that mean Mike was her boyfriend now?

Once in the seclusion of the kitchen, Dustin let himself finish flipping out, "What the hell was that?"

"I don't know! It just...slipped out!" Mike said, running his hand through his hair nervously.

"You realize that in less than two minutes, you're going to have to go back down there and explain yourself to Eleven, right?"

" _Shit_ ," Mike said, setting the last coke on the counter with more force than was necessary.

"Actually, you know what?" Dustin said, gathering the water bottles and coke cans in his arms, "I've got you,"

"Dustin! What are you -!"

But Dustin had already left the room before Mike could finish his sentence. He sat down at the counter, defeated. His panic increased as he heard Dustin's exclamation of, "El! Mike needs to talk to you in the kitchen!"

"Shit, shit, _shit_ ," Mike said. He only hoped that he could think of different words when El came in there.

Mike wouldn't have even heard Eleven walk into the kitchen, still wearing his old sweatshirt even though it was nearing one hundred degrees outside, if he hadn't been watching the doorway in gut-wrenching anticipation.

"So, um. That word -" Mike started, but El cut him off.

"Max says it's a word boyfriends and girlfriends use," She said, sitting beside him slowly, "Is it?"

"Yeah," Mike said with a gulp. He could feel his heart rattling in his chest, "It is,"

A few moments of awkward silence passed before Eleven's soft voice piped up, "Mike?"

Mike's reply was a strangled, "Yeah, El?"

"Are you..." Eleven seemed almost hesitant to say it, "Are you my boyfriend?"

"I -I don't know," Mike grew frantic as Eleven's face fell, "I mean...if you want me to be, then sure, yeah, of course! But if you don't want to, that's perfectly fine. It's completely your call, so -"

Eleven cut him off once again. Mike wondered when she got so gutsy, "I want to," She said.

"Okay, well then, uh, I guess that makes us...a thing now," Mike stuttered, his mouth even drier than it was before.

"Do I call you Mike?"

"What?"

"Do I call you Mike still, or do I call you the other word? Babe," Eleven asked, curiosity evident in her expression.

"Oh, I guess, um, either one works," Mike managed to say.

Eleven, of course, wasn't taking the whole exchange as awkwardly as he was. On the contrary, she looked positively elated. Mike was elated, too, obviously, but his joy was stifled by his heart threatening to rip through his chest. El noticed how distraught he looked; she reached out and carefully brushed the hair out of his eyes, giving him a small smile as she did so.

"How do we feel about this?"

"I don't know, Dustin,"

"Would you guys _shut up_? They'll hear you!"

 **Well. It's something. Yea or nay?**


	12. Snowflakes

**KGBKBG suggested this one; kudos to them!**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

Hopper was never fond of the snow. He didn't think he could hate the stuff any more than he already did, really. But that changed pretty quickly when a particularly rough snow storm left not only him and Eleven shut in at the cabin...but Mike Wheeler as well.

The windows didn't trap any heat whatsoever, and the ancient clunk of a heater was only working in short bursts. And there wasn't exactly a plethora of blankets, which -much to Hop's dismay- left Mike and Eleven huddled under the same one.

He couldn't say anything. After all, it was cold; they were just trying to keep warm.

"Why don't we go outside? We could build a snowman," Mike suggested after watching Hopper sit in an armchair in bitter silence for several minutes, "If we're gonna be cold, we might as well have some fun,"

"Okay," Hopper said, and the two kids leaped out from under the blanket hardly a second later, "But wear a coat! You'll freeze out there,"

"You're not coming?" El asked, pausing with only one arm in her sweater.

"Are you kidding?" Hopper said, "It's nineteen degrees. I'm taking a nap. You two go on and have fun,"

Neither of them protested, and they wasted no time in running out the door.

Eleven ignored the burning of her ears as her and Mike worked on the base of their snowman. Or rather _she_ worked on it, because Mike was busy marveling at how pretty she looked with pink cheeks and hair peppered with snowflakes.

"What are you looking at?" Eleven asked, catching his stare.

"What?" Mike asked, his pale face very obviously blushing. He hadn't realized that he'd been staring, "Oh. Nothing,"

El accepted his answer and continued packing snow together, this time with Mike actually helping. Between the thickness of the snow and Eleven being, you know, _telekinetic_ , they had finished making and stacking the three sections fairly quickly. Eleven turned around to fetch a few pebbles for it's face and, unable to see Mike's sly grin, fell victim to the worse form of wintry weaponry:

The snowball.

She gasped as it hit her in the back with a soft thump, the snow clinging to her sweater and making it almost unbearably cold. She turned around to see Mike, his gloves packing another one together. She gave a devious smile of her own before doing the same, launching one that hit Mike in the shoulder.

Eleven humored him for a while, letting a few of his actually hit her. But when he went to throw what was probably around the twelfth snowball, it stopped in mid-air.

The look of shear panic on Mike's face was absolutely _priceless._ His eyes were as wide as saucers as it turned around and hit him in the middle of his face.

"Alright, fair enough," Mike said, smiling as he brushed the cold snow off his face, "You win,"

"You put up a good fight," Eleven said, crossing over to him and kissing the tip of his frozen nose lightly.

Mike shook his head slightly and pulled El to him, soaking in her warmth against the frigid air. Of course, he still needed his vengeance.

He reached one arm over their heads and grabbed a low-hanging branch. He pulled it down and let it jerk back up, dumping the snow over the both of them. Eleven pulled away from him quickly, her clothes and hair covered in the white powder.

"Hey!" She exclaimed, shivering as it fell through the top of her coat.

"Hey, I'm covered in it too!" Mike said, throwing his hands up as if in surrender. He regretted his decision as he shivered.

"Inside?" Eleven asked, nodding her head towards the door as she wrapped her arms around herself.

The once chilly cabin felt more than pleasantly warm after being ankle deep in snow. Mike helped Eleven out of her coat and hung it up before doing the same with his own sweater. Hopper wasn't asleep, sitting in the arm chair sipping coffee instead while he raised an eyebrow at the two.

"Looks like you two had fun,"

Mike glanced out the window and realized that the spot they'd been in was completely visible from Hopper's standpoint. The cold wasn't the reason for his red cheeks after that.

El didn't realize the suggestiveness of Hopper's words, and answered with a cheerful, "Yes, sir!"

"There's hot chocolate on the stove," Hopper told them, not wanting to address the previous topic any longer, "Go warm up,"

Mike followed El into the kitchen and watched her carefully fill up two mugs (she refused to let him help). Mike wrapped his cold hands around the warm cup gratefully as he slid into a chair at the table beside Eleven. Eleven was nursing her drink and staring out the window, lost in thought.

Mike took a minute to admire her once again, watching the way her eyes were sparkling along with the sun reflecting off the snow before he nudged her, "Penny for your thoughts?"

"Snow used to be bad," Eleven said, not taking her eyes way from the window. She recalled the days she spent alone in the cold before Hopper found her, all the nights she spent huddled under that jacket that reeked of cigarette smoke and wasn't even hers with a shudder, "Thank you,"

Mike set his mug down, "For?"

"For changing that,"

 **Okay, I've got to explain myself right quick. I rewrote every single chapter of this (except the first one. I liked it), and I wanted to get that done before I posted another chapter. And I deleted the firework chapter because I really didn't like it; it felt too out of place. I'm really sorry that it took me so long to update, but it shouldn't happen again. I tried to sneak some extra feels in here to try and make up for it.**

 **Anyway, thank you guys so so much for 120+ followers. You have no idea how happy that makes me. I hope you guys liked this fluffy little snow fic :)**


	13. Day 31

**This isn't my usual sort of oneshot, but I had to give you guys (132 as of today! That's a big number. You guys are amazing!) something.**

 **I still own nothing.**

"It's day thirty one," Mike spoke in a hoarse voice, sitting cross-legged on his bed, "Seven p.m.,"

It was a Friday. He usually liked Fridays.

 _Usually._

"I never..." Mike said, sniffling into the Supercom, "I thought you would be back by now. It's been exactly a month,"

Mike didn't try to stop the tear that slipped out of his eye. _This is stupid_ , Mike thought He'd only known her for a few days. She'd barely spoken twenty words to him. And here he was, pouring his heart out into a _radio_ , holding onto the sliver of hope that Eleven could hear him. He told himself that it was stupid to be this attached to a girl he barely knew.

But then he remembered.

She was his first kiss.

She _trusted_ him.

She _saved his life._

She saved all of their lives, and now? She was gone, leaving Mike hoping and praying that by some miracle she was still alive.

"I miss you," Mike said, "A lot. This last month has been hell. Even with Will back...it's still been hell. I just wish you were here. Maybe everything would be okay again. Maybe everything would make _sense,_ "

A few more tears rolled down his cheeks.

"Who am I kidding..." Mike said quietly, discouraged, "She can't hear me,"

* * *

Eleven had been staying in Hopper's cabin for twenty two days now, if she remembered correctly. It was nearing seven, and, just as she did every night at seven, she tied an old handkerchief around her eyes and sat in front of the TV.

She didn't know why Mike always tried to reach her at that time, nor did she know why she knew to listen in.

 _"It's day thirty one_. _Seven p.m.,"_

He sounded sad, as if he'd been crying. He _looked_ like it, too. His eyes were red and watery, and it broke Eleven's heart as she listened to him speak.

 _"I never..._ "

Eleven froze, watching him scrunch his eyes closed as if he were trying to prepare himself for a teaspoon of something bitter.

 _"I thought you would be back by now. It's been exactly a month."_ A single tear escaped from his eye, and Eleven's heart broke even more, _"I miss you. A lot. This last month has been hell. Even with Will back...it's still been hell. I just wish you were here. Maybe everything would be okay again. Maybe everything would make sense,"_

Mike started crying; it was the first time Eleven had seen him cry. She reached out her hand to wipe the tears away, but instead of brushing against his cheek, her fingers brushed through an apparition.

She wished she could comfort him. She wished she could be there with him, and tell him it was okay, that it was all going to be okay; that _she_ was okay. But she couldn't, and that was the hardest part.

She started crying along with him, tears covering her own cheeks as she tucked her knees to her chest.

And after a while, Mike spoke again, _"Who am I kidding...she can't hear me,"_

El ripped her blindfold off and tossed it, her hands shaking. This wasn't okay. She needed Mike, and he needed her.

 _Nothing_ about this was okay.

 **Ooookay, so. I was able to get a start on a couple of you guys' suggestions, but it may be a little while before I can actually finish them just because it's a little hard for me to fill in a mind-child I didn't conceive.**

 **(Yes. I said that.)**

 **Anyway. This is just something that was stuck in my head. Hope you lovely little nuggets liked it well enough :)**


	14. Interruptions

**Before I start this chapter (which I** ** _think_** **is going to be my new favorite), I'm gonna clarify that Mike and Eleven are around 15 or 16 in this, which would make Holly around 6 I believe.**

 **Also, I own nothing.**

Holly had her pink fluffy blanket draped around her shoulders, the floor cold underneath her bare feet as she walked to her brother's room.

"Mike?" She whispered, knocking softly on the door. He didn't open it, but she heard him stirring and figured he was awake. She closed her small hand over the doorknob and opened it slowly, quiet as a mouse.

Mike was awake, alright. But he wasn't alone. There was someone else too, sitting almost of top of her brother and...were they smashing rubbing their faces together? She stared at the slick, short brown hair of the other person. The lighting was incredibly dim, but she thought it could have been...

 _Will?_

* * *

The movie just didn't last long enough for Mike and El's liking.

And neither did dinner.

Mike brought up spending another half hour at his house so they could see each other a bit longer. Eleven, of course, agreed right away. Mike's intentions of inviting Eleven up to his room were pure; it was cold in the living room, and his room had a bit more warmth to it. But Mike didn't exactly hesitate to deepen the kiss his girlfriend initiated.

She was pressed against him, her arms wrapped loosely around his neck while his encircled her waist tightly. The pair of them were completely oblivious to the happenings around them -including the quiet _click_ of the doorknob. Mike had leaned back and pulled Eleven on top of him when he heard it:

"Mike?" His baby sister asked as the blanket she was toting fell to the ground. El quickly moved off of Mike.

Mike's face flushed, wondering how long Holly had been standing there, "Holly!"

"What were you doing?" Holly asked, her voice full of curiosity and childlike innocence.

"What do you need, Holly?" Mike stuttered quickly, hoping that it would change the subject.

Fortunately, it worked, "A drink," Holly said.

"Can't Nancy get you a drink?" Mike asked, a little annoyed but not letting it seep through.

"She's at Mindy's," Holly reminded him as she wrapped her blanket back around her.

"Right," Mike said, sighing as he stood up, "C'mon, Holls,"

Mike motioned for Eleven to follow him, and they went with Holly to the kitchen. She perched herself at the table as Mike filled a Disney princess cup with water.

"Can I have juice?" She asked.

"It's past your bed time, Holly. You know you can't have juice this late. Just water,"

Holly frowned a little, but sipped her drink all the same.

"What were you guys doing? In your room?" Holly asked, wiping the water off her lips.

"Wrestling!" Eleven said in a panic. Mike shot her a look, which she responded to with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Wrestling?" Holly said, "Like fighting?"

"Yeah," Mike said.

"With your faces?"

"Yeah," Mike said again, "Face-wrestling. It's a new sport the high school is trying out,"

"Oh," Holly said, "Does Mom know she's here?"

"No!" Mike said quickly, a little too loud, "No. And please don't tell her,"

"Why can't Momma know?"

"She can't. Just, please don't tell her, Holly. Please," Mike pleaded.

"...can I have juice?" Holly asked, sliding her cup over to her big brother.

"If I let you have juice," Mike said, "Will you keep your mouth shut?"

Holly nodded her head, "Yup!"

"Pinky swear?"

"Pinky swear," The little girl nodded, linking her pinky with Mike's and shaking it.

Eleven smiled, marveling at how sweet she found the interactions between the two to be.

"Here's your juice, Holly," Mike said before turning around to face El, "What's that smile for?"

"You," Eleven said, "What's yours for?"

"You," Mike told her, forgetting Holly was there and drawing her closer to him and wrapping her in a hug.

"You smell nice," Eleven said, her face pressed against his chest.

"It's the sweatshirt,"

"Can I keep it?" Eleven teased, although she was only halfway joking.

"Gross!" Holly said, watching the two.

The two stepped away from each other, and Mike cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Sorry, Holly,"

"It's okay," Holly said, "You gave me juice. I have to forgive you,"

* * *

"It was adorable, you know," Eleven said as Mike walked her home, "You and your sister,"

"You think everything is adorable," Mike said, nudging her with his elbow.

"Only if it involves you," Eleven said, bopping him on the nose as she stopped on her and Hopper's porch, "Goodnight, Mike,"

Mike placed a short kiss on her lips, "Night, El,"

 **I really don't like this one all that much, but ya know, it's been ages and I have to give you guys something.**


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